"What is your name?" I ask the Recondite 'guarding' me and the children.

He glances at me, his jaw hard, eyes cold. "Asan," he tells me reluctantly.

"How long have you been a Recondite?" I ask him. I'm not really interested, but this inane conversation keeps me from becoming hysterical.

"Since Thelios brought me here from the flood," he snarls at bit, eyes flashing dangerously when he mentions my Fated.

I nod absently. "The flood from the hailstorm?"

"Yes," Asan snaps.

Momo shows him his bum. Waggling it in front of the oblivious warrior, he makes faces that look like he's constipated.

I don't giggle, which is what Momo wants. I'm too worn out to find it funny.

Momo's shoulders sag, so he pees on the Recondite's boots and walks away, looking happier.

I stroke the dark hair away from Thane's son's forehead. The child is finally asleep after screaming and attacking nearly everyone who came near him. I'm happy that Poppy doesn't throw tantrums like that. Grey rocked him to sleep, only because his skin of stone prove impenetrable to the little male's sharp teeth.

"Why did you kill them?" Asan asks me suddenly.

I look at him, measuring his attitude toward me. He's hostile. Everyone is angry with me. I have taken away the greatest of their warriors, the greatest of any warriors, in the middle of a war.

We are locked tight behind the walls of War again. The First Army is threatening us from outside the walls, attacking almost constantly. This is siege warfare at its worst. The city is in shambles. Chaos and anarchy reign in this quarter.

Lier sent me to the mausoleum and locked me inside. All of the Basru are fighting. There is no time to rest. No time to sleep. No time to listen to the goddess of grief.

I sigh. Some goddess I am. Something needs to be done. My blood may be the key to destroying the undead, the spawn of the Forgotten, but to have enough to attack them all would drain me dry. And, of course, there are soldiers who aren't undead. Tasuri warriors who are well-trained and well-fed on the other side of the walls.

The catalyst of this war may be Love and her jealousy and the fight with my father over Fated bonds, but in the here and now the cause of the conflict matters little.

Rest

"I can't rest, father," I say out loud, ignoring the look from Asan and the gargoyles that are sniffing the urine on his boots.

Oh?

"I have to think of a plan," I murmur.

Come home

"I can't leave the city."

Order the Basru to bring you home

"All those shifters."

They will live or die

His nonchalance is killing me, pun not intended.

"Are my males alright?" I ask him. It is the fourth time I've asked since I awoke in the mausoleum.

Yes daughter

"What are they doing?" I've been afraid to ask that.

Discussing things

Discussing what? "Are they fighting?" I ask hesitantly.

My father starts to laugh. No matter how I ask, he refuses to answer that question.

---

"Fuck you!" I shove my thumbs into the fragile part of my brother's neck. It's not easy when I can barely see through the two black eyes he gave me.

"She loves me," he grunts.

My demon snarls in his face. He growls right back. He's missing a front tooth. I laugh in his face when I see it, until the breathe whooshes out of me when he gets a lucky hit in.

"Shit," he growls blearily. My fingers loosen and he throws me off of him.

"You stink like ripe gano shit," he tells me.

"You stink like Love's well-used cunt," I answer.

He freezes, then starts howling in laughter. I join him, the ridiculousness of our current predicament making us both lose our minds a little.

We are back in the pits. The hellfire flame is burning merrily, it's eerie green and orange glow a pleasant reminder of home. I hate it. My Lady is in the above without me. I have no idea if she's safe. Only the general calm in the Underworld tells me that she's not hurt.

Thelios breaks away, limping over to the stagnant pool of sacred water. Turning the lever, the rusted, ancient fountain spits out a bit of fresh water. "Fuck," he mumbles, splashing his face. I wait for him to finish cleaning up before taking my own turn.

"I didn't think I would ever be back here," he mumbles, looking around. Scoffing, he continues, "I was rescued from this place by Inanji. I spent so much time here and in the library... If I had known..."

"There's a library?" Why didn't the Basru know about a library?

He rubs his hand with raw knuckles and bleeding fingertips over his bruised face. "Yes. I was never good at studying. Mara is," he says sadly. "Why did she do it?"

I blink at him. Gods, do I... do I feel sorry for him? Or, maybe I just feel bad that he's an idiot? Yes, that must be it.

"She killed us to get us away from Love and the war. So that we would be unaffected by the bonds that Love has created."

"Love can get to us here, too, lordling," he sneers.

"In the Underworld, we can tell who she is, little brother," I mock him.

He snarls, posturing violence in my face.

I leap for his throat.

---

Tafia weeps in Esa's arms. Neither female has spoken to me, but Esa did offer me a sad smile. Tafia's grief is inconsolable. Sera is gone, died when Love abandoned her body to go wherever she does when she isn't mucking around with living souls.

Even the baby can't make Tafia smile right now. I hold her in my arms, her squished infant face making my heart shudder. She is Anthea's daughter. Her blood children are with me. I want to scream to the sky about the unfairness of it all.

Inanji cursed me with Heat, but I didn't quicken with child. A good thing, considering the war and my impending starvation, but there is some part of me that wants my own baby. That deep, instinctively feminine part of me yearns to rock my own blood, and not the infant of my enemy.

At least Poppy is thoroughly enjoying the two younger children. Even the bizarre blood-drinking male seems to like my daughter. She may be the only one he likes.

There is no end of corpses for the little male to feed on.

I pat the baby's back as I stand. Poppy and the little male look at me as I stand and cross the room to Esa and Tafia.

"I need to speak to Lier," I say to them softly.

Esa nods and smiles, taking the baby in her arms. Even Tafia lets her lips quirk at me. It let's me know that she doesn't blame me for Sera's death.

Tafia doesn't need to blame me. I blame myself.

"Mama?" Poppy looks at me with worry as I start to leave the central room.

"I am going to be just a moment, poppet," I tell her.

She nods, her eyes solemn on me. My breath stutters in my chest when I see the trust in her eyes. I killed her two 'Capins' right in front of her. I suppose Poppy doesn't see males in a trustworthy light, or, maybe, she thinks that I can't do wrong.

I walk to the entrance of the mausoleum. The Recondite leaning against the door is a different one from earlier.

"I need to speak with Lier," I tell him.

"The Captain is busy," he tells me coldly.

I look at him steadily. When I feel like I can respond I say, "he is not the Captain," in a hoarse voice. "And I will speak with him. Now."

His face pales a little, a strange look passing over his eyes. He looks away from me, shoulders rigid from tension. He calls out a name and gives me a nod, "I'll have someone get him."

I turn and walk back into the mausoleum. Apparently, I am not allowed to leave.

I lay down next to Poppy and the little male. She is whispering stories to him. My heart clenches when I recognize the terrible stories of demons and princesses that Thane would tell her.

Closing my eyes, I wait for Lier and think. Flesh is flesh. I can't go to the Underworld, not yet. I need to leave this city with a lasting reminder of what happens when bonds become toys of a bitter, jealous goddess. I have to do this for all of the rejected souls.

This is about choice.

"My Lady," Lier's voice rouses me from sleep.

I open my eyes. It's dark in the mausoleum. Only one torch is lit. It must be in the middle of the night.

"You are standing on your own grave, Lier. Don't do that," I whisper, feeling the shivers of dread dancing along my spine. His mortal remains are buried, yet here he is.

He is stiff with disapproval, but he moves. That should be a rule, I think idly, 'don't stand on your own grave.'

I fight away the laugh. No hysteria for me.

"Hanish told me you needed to speak to me?" he asks.

I stand and look into his dark eyes. Even without light, I can see the wariness. I remember, so long ago it seems, the look in his eyes in the desert. He trusted me then. He doesn't now.

Sad that my own Basru doesn't trust me. Yet, he's stuck. He has to obey my commands, even if he doesn't agree. Of all the gifts my father has given me, the Basru may prove to be the most powerful.

I look behind me, making sure that the children are sleeping.

"Lier, you are the acting Captain of both the Basru and the Recondites," I tell him.

I didn't think it was possible for the male to become more stiff, but it happens. The tension between us is palpable.

"You are going to burn the city to the ground," I say softly.

His body jerks as though I shoved a dagger through his skull. He shakes his head, in denial of my words. "My Lady," he begins, but his voice trails off in horror.

I shake my head at him. "This city will burn to ash. The sacred sites will be rebuilt elsewhere, but this city will be destroyed."

"Why?" he asks me raspily.

"To appease War while Love tries to save her army."

"I don't understand?"

I smile, though I think it may be more of a grimace. "Urto is not on our side in this conflict, Captain." Lier flinches as I say the war god's true name.

"How do you know that?" he growls.

"Because, there are no Acera here in War, and I see the broken bonds of the rejected everywhere." My voice shakes just a bit. The sorrow and grief in War is monumental. "He is not trying to win this war for us, but for Love."

Lier sucks in a breath. Without a word he spins around and stalks from the mausoleum. I follow him, having to rush to keep up with his ground-eating strides. We go past the Recondite stationed at the door without any issues, letting me know that I am correct in my assumption that the Recondites have accepted Lier back into the fold.

He stops in a yard of sleeping refugees. None of them are Acera. In the tumult of the mob weeks ago, somehow none of the Acera fleeing the noble Houses ended up here. It shouldn't have been possible. I was in that crowd, myself. Yet, here we are, looking around at the wounded, sleeping crowd. They are all shifters and Tasuri. Urto has no use for those he considers weak.

"Where are they?" Lier asks me, bewildered.

"Floating down the Euphrates toward the pure Acera villages."

"Why destroy the city?" he asks in a hushed voice.

"This city will belong to Death. Souls will be trapped here, magic will be choked off. This will become a wasteland. What will the survivors do?" I muse.

"What do you want them to do?" Lier asks.

I look at him. "Go north. Far from the Acera. And take their gods and magic with them."

"This is blasphemy," he murmurs quietly.

I smile at him weakly. "Against which god, Captain? You are the Basru. There is only one god who should concern you."

He looks at me. "Did you love him? My Captain?"

I blink away tears. "I do love him. Them. More than my life," I joke weakly.

He nods, not even smiling. "I pray to your father that you are telling the truth, my Lady. He has fully paid the price for harming you. He is yours to destroy, if you wish to."

I raise an eyebrow at Lier's high-handedness. He seems to suddenly become ashamed of his words. "Apologies, my Lady. I am loyal to Thane, but you are the Princess we serve."

I hear the condemnation in his voice, but Lier is not one of the males that I truly need to explain myself to.

He clears his throat. "How do you think to attempt to take the city?" he asks.

"I have an idea," I respond.

---

I look at the little male. He stares back at me with bright blue eyes. I wish he had Thane's eyes. Those beautiful greys. As it is, this male hardly resembles his father.

"Mama? You are bleeding," Poppy says to me in a hushed whisper.

"I know, Poppet," I murmur. The male's eyes are fixed on the rivulets of red blood trailing down my fingers. It's just the smallest prick. I want to see what happens when the little male drinks my blood.

I wipe my fingers on a bowl. His blue eyes watch the trail of red as if it's the most precious substance in the world.

I extend the bowl to him. He grabs it, lightning quick. When he licks the bowl he purrs like a kitten with a bowl of milk.

He licks and licks until the bowl can't possibly have even the tiniest drop of my blood, left.

When he looks up, his eyes are even brighter. His pale skin, porcelain white, has darkened to a healthy pink hue. He tongue darts out and gets the bit of my blood coating his lips, eyeing my healed wound with a pout.

He takes the tiniest step toward me, but backs away when Lier threatens him silently. The little male hisses at the warrior, but doesn't try to approach me again.

"He looks bigger," Poppy announces happily.

I shift warily. He does look bigger. Odd. He is alive, however, and I wasn't sure if he would live.

"Stand up," I order.

The little male hisses, but stands.

"Raise your hands above your head."

Another yowl of outrage, but he does it. His arms move jerkily, as if his body and mind are fighting.

"Lie down," I tell him.

He lies down, hissing and spitting angrily.

"Nateos," Lier whispers.

"My blood will make the Forgotten undead obedient. Thank you," I thank Alnue, who is eyeing the little male with pure fascination. He smiles at me with pride.

Patriarch Salbin comments quietly, "it may only be temporary. We need a test subject from the enemy ranks." He is clutching the scroll about my "pure" blood tightly.

I turn and look at Lier. He smiles, a real smile, and nods. Striding out of the mausoleum, he has more of a spring in his step than he did just before.

The little male is still lying down, hissing. "I'm sorry," I tell him quietly, sliding down to sit next to him. "You don't have to obey me."

He scrambles away from me, hiding in Poppy's skirts.

"Mama, that was mean, "she scolds.

"I know, Poppy. But, he will be fine." If anything, it may be best that I keep giving this little male drops of my blood, if only to make sure he stays loyal to us. It will make him harder to be used by Love as a tool.

"There is something else I would like to try, Mara," Patriarch Salbin says in a low tone.

"Yes?" I look up at him.

He is staring down at the scroll, reading the words over and over. "What if your blood is given to a living creature?"

I shake my head. Only Thane, and now this little male, have ever had my blood. And, Thane stole it. It was meant to destroy his grandfather. Thane and the little male are undead, I presume. But... he liked it. But... he is my Fated.

"I don't know," I admit.

"The Recondites..." Patriarch Salbins says slowly. "What happens if one of them drinks from you? If War is our enemy, then we can't trust the Recondites. They serve all the gods, but are especially close to War."

"How do I convince one of them to drink?" I ask him quietly.

They must be close to death

They will drink to save themselves

Mortals

My father scoffs. He is frustrated with my stubbornness. I whisper a thank you to him.

I need a bigger pit

I frown, but don't bother to ask my father what he means. He probably won't tell me, anyway.

"Are there any injured Recondites? Ones who may die?"

Patriarch Salbin smiles at me a little wickedly. "There are two."

Alnue hands me an empty vial with a grin that is far more wickedly gleeful than Patriarch Salbin's.

I fill it.